The Path We Must Take
by Loca Bambina
Summary: The road that leads to happiness is a long one, but we'll get there someday. Oneshot, KyleCartman.


A/N: I'm so sorry.

I may have mentioned once or twice (or maybe three times?) that I have one of those very low attention spans that prevents me from focusing on one fic for more than two days. So I compensate by writing a gazillion oneshots and starting a gazillion+1 multichaps that I doubt I'll ever finish...

But this was one of those oneshots I had to write, you know? It's for emixoO on deviantART; she wanted a Kyle/Cartman, and a Kyle/Cartman she will get. : ) It's a little different than the way I usually write, but I think it turned out okay. And don't worry, faithful readers (if I still have any left that aren't completely disgusted with me): I definitely haven't given up on any of the stories I have on here, and those **will** be updated soon. I promise. (see, now if I don't follow through, you can all come after me with torches or whatever).

Anyway. Can't wait to hear what everyone has to say, especially emixoO - hope you all like it! Oh, and that song Cartman sings - Kyle's right, it does suck ass. Lol.

disclaimer: I don't own South Park... or 7-Up.

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**The Path We Must Take**

**Down on One Knee?**

There wasn't anyone in South Park who wasn't completely, utterly shocked when Cartman and Kyle started going out.

Kyle himself was stunned, actually, and wondered briefly if Stan was right; maybe he _had_ been drunk that night? No, wait, he didn't drink, so that was impossible. Or maybe Cartman had slipped something into his 7-Up?

Nah, who was he fooling? He loved Cartman. Sad, but true, considering the proposal went something like this:

_Cartman (who was, admittedly, a little drunk. No, scratch that – __**very **__drunk): HEY! JEW BOY!_

_Kyle: What do you want, fatass?_

_Cartman: You're a fag, right?_

_Kyle: I'd prefer you not call me that, but yes, I am._

_Cartman: Hah, then you can go out with me!_

_Kyle: And I'd want to… why?_

_Cartman: I'll kill your mom if you don't._

…and so on and so forth, until Kyle had finally given up the fight and agreed to date his enemy, leading to an elated yell from Cartman and a "Dude, you've gotta be kidding me" stare from Stan. Then, of course, Kyle'd gone home and lain down, telling his mom he "just had a headache" and he'd be okay "after a bit of sleep."

After years of enduring the bitch, he'd gotten much better at lying to his mom.

The redhead sat in his room, pondering the mysteries of life (or, more specifically, the fact that he was undeniably head-over-heels in love with _Eric Cartman_). He wondered if Cartman was playing a trick on him – had the fatass realized Kyle's crush before he himself did? It wouldn't be below him; he was a manipulating asshole, and Kyle knew not to trust him.

But why did he want to trust him with all his heart?

**Formal Announcement**

"We're going on a date tonight," announced Cartman to the table at lunch.

"You are?" asked Stan, giving Kyle an odd look. He still, apparently, hadn't gotten used to the fact that his best friend was dating _Eric Cartman_.

"You are?" asked Kenny, giving Cartman an odd look. He knew Cartman had had a boner for the Jew for years, but was surprised that Kyle'd actually agreed to date him.

"We are?" asked Kyle, giving all three of them an odd look. Ever since making the announcement official – yes, he was dating _Eric Cartman _– he'd been having a hard time figuring out what his friends were thinking. Did they think he was crazy? Would they send him to an asylum again? He shuddered at the almost-forgotten memory of white walls, a straitjacket, a lone window twenty feet above his head.

"Yes, we are. I'm picking you up at… six. Six, and then we're going to dinner, and if you don't come, I'm gonna- "

"Fine, I'll come," Kyle sighed. He'd been planning to help Ike beat his favorite video game, _Terrance and Phillip: Ass Attack II_, but he thought it best not to argue.

Besides, Cartman was his boyfriend. His _boyfriend._ Woah, that was gonna take some getting used to.

"Where are you two going?" Stan took a sip of Gatorade and pushed his hair back, the way he always did when he was nervous or confused.

"Casa Bonita, of course."

"But that place's for kids!" Kyle interjected. "Besides, I don't like Mexican food anymore."

"We're going to Casa Bonita." Cartman shrugged. "Oh, and we're doing everything I want us to do. That includes the waterfall."

"I hate the waterfall!"

"I know. That's why we're going on it."

Kenny sighed. "Will you two just break up now and spare us the agony of watching?"

"No!" Kyle and Cartman shouted simultaneously. Stan stared at Kyle.

"Kye, can I talk to you?"

"Um… sure." He pushed back his seat and joined his best friend a few feet away from the table.

"What's up? You can't really… _like_ Cartman? I mean, he's _Eric Cart- "_

"Why does everyone have to say it like that?" Kyle asked, rubbing his head. "Dude, I- I like him. I love him. I don't know why. I just- I'm really confused right now, okay?" Stan nodded.

"Personally, I think you're doing something really stupid. But if you want to- I'm here for you, dude. Just don't get yourself hurt, okay?"

"I'll try." He knew what he was doing with Cartman was risky, but he couldn't help it – if this was love, it was pretty screwed up.

**Rings**

"Kyle? Bubbe, there's someone at the do- oh. It's _that boy._"

"Cartman? He's here? _Damn!_" Kyle adjusted his tie and ran down the stairs. "I didn't fix my- "

"Why, hello, Kyle. Hello, Mrs. Broflovski. May I call you Sheila?" Kyle's mother gave him a long stare.

"Kyle, explain."

"Well, um, you see, mom- "

"Oh, I'd be happy to explain, Sheila." (Mrs. Broflovski winced.) "You see, Kyle here and I are off to a fancy dress party over at Wendy's house. You know Wendy, right? I'm picking everyone up, and I'll be sure to have him home by midnight." He finished the speech with a trademark grin and winked at Kyle.

"Oh, um, all right," said Sheila. "Just- oh, have fun, bubbelich." She gave him a quick hug and bustled off.

"Let's go, Jew," Cartman said. They walked down the snowy path and got into Cartman's car. "By the way, have I ever mentioned to you that your mom's a total bitch?"

"Don't call my mom a bitch, Cartman." Kyle answered by reflex, even though he knew Cartman was right. "What was that shit you pulled back there?"

"Got you out of the house, didn't it?" Kyle couldn't argue with that, and so he sat back and they spent the rest of the ride in silence, Cartman occasionally interrupting the still as he hummed a few bars of some song or other.

They arrived at Casa Bonita half an hour later, and Cartman leapt out of the car. "C'mon, Kahl! We only have- five hours!"

"Five hours, Cartman. That sign over there says we can 'get the full experience' in less than three."

"But I- come _on!_" Kyle sighed again and shut the car door, following his overexcited boyfriend into the crowded restaurant.

**Vows**

Three and a half hours later, they'd seen everything Casa Bonita had to offer at least twice.

"Can we- slow down- now?" Kyle panted, grabbing a chair in an effort to remain standing.

"Fine," Cartman sighed. "Let's eat." He called over a waiter and ordered for both of them, in a ridiculously good Spanish accent that confused the waiter but cracked Kyle up. As they waited for their food, Cartman began humming that song again.

"What is that?"

"What is what?"

"You know- " Kyle mimicked Eric's humming. "That."

"Oh," said Cartman, blushing slightly. "It's- nothing." Kyle raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Better not to piss Cartman off.

After a few minutes of aggravating silence, Cartman spoke up again. "Oh, look, our food is here!" He grabbed a fork and dug into a plate of enchilada. Kyle picked at his tacos. He hadn't been lying when he'd said he hated Mexican food.

"_Senor?_" One of the waiters had appeared by Cartman's side. "Would you like us to do it now?" Cartman looked at Kyle.

"Um – yeah, sure, why not? I think we're done eating anyway." His plate was clear – Kyle's was as full as it had been when he'd gotten it. He decided not to say anything, though; it wasn't as if he wanted to eat it, and besides, he was curious as to what Cartman might have in store.

"Watch this," whispered Cartman, as the waiter took their plates away. "Oh, you're gonna love this, I'm seriously." Kyle bit his lip and waited.

Suddenly five or six waiters flooded out of the kitchen, holding a large tray and singing in perfect harmony- which wouldn't have been too weird, except they were singing the Happy Birthday song. In Spanish.

"It's- not my birthday," said Kyle slowly as they laid the tray, which contained a mountain of ice cream, in front of the boys. "My birthday was… five months ago?"

"Who cares?" said Cartman, his mouth already full of vanilla ice cream. "Free ice cream, dude."

"Uh… okay," Kyle shrugged, picking up his own spoon. Cartman could be really smart sometimes…

**You May Kiss…**

They left Casa Bonita five hours after they'd arrived, just as Cartman had wanted. "You guys, that was- so- sweet," he gasped as they were ushered out by the waiters, who each wished Kyle a very happy birthday.

"Yeah… let's just go home now, okay?" They slid into the car and Cartman began the drive home. Before long, he was humming _that song_ again.

"Seriously, Cartman, what _is_ that song?" The fat boy looked at Cartman and took a deep breath.

"Fine, if you must know, it's a song I… wrote." Kyle looked at him expectantly. "For you."

"Cartman, that's- could you sing it to me?"

"I guess." He took another deep breath and began, his nasally voice somehow sounding _good_ as he sang.

_"Oh, Kyle_

_The world without your smile_

_Would be a dark, dark place, yeah_

_Oh, Kyle_

_I've liked you for a while_

_And now I've finally ended the chase, oh yeah_

_Kyle, you're a stupid Jew_

_Your mom is really bitchy, too_

_But I don't know what I would do_

_Without you, Kyle – I love you."_

He finished and bit his lip, staring straight ahead. Kyle's eyes watered a bit.

"That song sucked ass, you know that?" Cartman laughed shakily. "But I liked it." He put his hand on Cartman's shoulder. "You really- you really do like me, don't you?"

"I think I love you, Kahl." Ignoring the road, letting his hands steer the wheel as if they were detached from his (oversized) body, Cartman turned to Kyle and leaned his head in.

Kyle leaned in too, and before either of them knew it, the car had been pulled over to the side of the road and they were lost in a furious kiss, filled with love and hate confusion and power and everything else they'd ever felt. After a while, Kyle surfaced for air and swore.

"What?"

"It's past twelve. My mom is gonna _kill_ me."

"I told you she was a bitch."

"Don't- call- my mom- a bitch, fatass!"

"Ey! I'm big-boned!" Kyle slapped him and re-buckled his seatbelt.

"Let's just go, okay?"

"Fine. Way to ruin all the fun, Jew." He started up the car and they rode the rest of the way home in- you guessed it- complete silence.

Finally, they pulled up at Kyle's house. "Guess I'll… see you tomorrow," Cartman muttered as Kyle opened the car door.

"Yeah." A light in the house turned on. Kyle's mother was awake.

"Hey, Kahl?" He turned.

"Yeah?"

"I hate you."

"'K. Hate you too." He waved and walked up the steps into his house.

From the car, Cartman heard Sheila's furious shouts – "YOU SAID YOU'D BE HOME BY MIDNIGHT! YOU HAVE SOME EXPLAINING TO DO, MISTER!" He laughed and drove off. The Jew was on his own for this one.


End file.
